


Newcomers

by Yamazing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beauxbatons, Blaise Zabini is Harry's rival, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy Speaks French, Draco Malfoy is French, Hogwarts Fourth Year, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, POV Third Person, Past Tense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamazing/pseuds/Yamazing
Summary: As fourth year began, Harry was still feeling tense about the Quidditch World Cup attack. But he did his homework and glared at Zabini like normal until the Beauxbatons students arrived. Once of them- Draco Malfoy- seemed both more interesting and more interested in Harry than anyone else. Through all the drama of being Harry Potter, he tried to learn about this Draco character.





	Newcomers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all of you fabulous readers- today I present to you an alternate universe in which Harry is relatively unobservant, Draco is a French, sassy, lovable git who is best friends with Fleur (later), and literally all of Harry and Draco's friends ship them very actively. I've had fun writing this first chapter, and I hope you have fun reading it.
> 
> Disclaimer: To be blunt, I don't own Harry Potter in any way, neither do I expect you to pay me for reading this.

 

Harry was still feeling tense when he got to platform nine and three quarters. The incident at the Quidditch World Cup had really shaken him up and made him see how serious his life might become in the near future. On the train ride to Hogwarts, he only managed to listen blankly as Ron and Hermione discussed the next year.

"It'll be nice to go to Hogsmeade all together without any sneaking now that Sirius has given you permission, Harry," mentioned Hermione.

"Although," Ron said, grinning devilishly, "the whole invisibility cloak thing did have a nice thrill to it. Being able to prank Zabini without him knowing what hit him was particularly nice. Oh, the muddy look on his face," Ron snickered at the thought.

Harry smiled weakly at Ron, and looked back down at his lap, tuning his friends out again to stew on what had happened over the summer.

Ron looked helplessly at Hermione. They had been trying to engage Harry in conversation for the whole train ride, but he was as closed off as he had been since the Dark Mark had appeared in the sky at the World Cup.

She shrugged back at him just as helplessly and they went back to making conversation that no one in the carriage was really paying attention to. This continued until the train stopped and everyone got out, at which point Harry walked briskly, head down, towards the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione tried to keep up with him without cluing the crowd of students who already payed too much attention to Harry into how much he was on edge. Still, curious eyes followed the three as they made their way quickly through the mass of students.

The three were some of the first to arrive at the entrance to the Great Hall, and Harry took one look through the ornate double doors before turning sharply around and heading away from the Hall. Once he reached a hallway that was a suitable distance away, he turned around to see Ron and Hermione behind him, both fairly out of breath and red-faced. Ron's face, considering it's natural hue, was making Harry kind of worried, actually.

Harry widened his eyes almost comically and blurted out, "I'm sorry, I forgot about… you two." He smiled apologetically, clearly embarrassed at his agitated behavior.

"While I'm tempted to get angry at you for forgetting about your two best friends," Hermione looked at him pointedly," I realize that you've been off since the World Cup. Plus, it's a bit amusing to see you so scatterbrained. Even more than normal," she teased.

"Thanks." Harry smiled and let out a breath. "Sorry again. It's just," Harry looked past them into the hallway leading back to the Hall, "I'm worried. But you two are too, surely, and I should've thought about you. I'm so-"

"No need to say sorry again, mate," interrupted Ron, fairly entertained as well. "We get it. Just try to remember us a bit more from now on. Just a bit, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks, then, if I can't apologize anymore. You two really are the best."

"Yup," said Ron, pretending to smile arrogantly at Harry, but really just barely holding back laughter.

Hermione smacked his arm gently, but they all were smiling as they walked back to watch the Sorting.

They entered the Hall, and for what must've been the first time since First Year, Harry watching the Sorting happen in its entirety. It reassured him slightly that there hadn't already been something to delay him to Hogwarts. Still, though, that wasn't enough to make him let go of the apprehension from the World Cup. Even considering the noteworthy event, Harry managed to tune out the whole thing in favor of worrying. The only thing he tore his attention away from his mind to do during the sorting was find Zabini's dark hair and skin at the Slytherin table and glare at him. Even that only lasted for a few minutes, which was nothing compared to usual.

Once the welcoming feast begin, Harry managed to allot half of his attention to making sure his fork dished his food into his mouth and nowhere else. He tried to pay some attention to the conversation Ron and Hermione were having, but figured that they didn't really need his input when he registered that it was about house-elves. It was their enslavement on Hermione's end and their wishes and delicious food on Ron's end, but Harry knew Ron would concede shortly so that he didn't have to face Hermione's wrath.

Only when Dumbledore's voice boomed across the Hall after they finish eating did Harry finally turn his full attention to something other than his thoughts. He thought that the Headmaster was bound to mention the World Cup incident, and he wanted to be listening when that happened. He wanted to see if he could learn anything about the altogether confusing and worrisome event after weeks of no new information.

"Now that you've all eaten to the point where you're a little bit past full, I'd like to remind you of a couple of things," said Dumbledore. "Well, one, really. The Forbidden Forest has and continues to be, well, forbidden for all Hogwarts students unless they have special permission. Please keep this in mind, all of you, when you don't go romping around at night in search of suspicious things that you shouldn't be searching for. Remember, you're to think of my warning when you don't do any of those things."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he continued. "On a more exciting note, I have another announcement to make," Harry's ears perked up and he listened raptly. "This year, the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place." Outraged and surprised yelps rang out through the Hall, Fred and George Weasley's being especially loud and indignant. It took a moment for Harry to realize that Dumbledore wasn't going to be talking about the World Cup, and he almost tuned out before deciding he should at least pay attention until the end of Dumbledore's speech.

"I realize that some of you are very angry, which is reasonable, but instead of said Cup, we will be hosting an event here at Hogwarts starting in October. It will take place throughout the whole year, and will be arguably more exciting than any Inter-House Cup could ever be. This year, students, Hogwarts will be hosting the first Triwizard Tournament in many years!"

Harry looked around, confused, to see if anyone else knew what this was. Hermione, of course, looked surprised but not confused, and Ron looked like he recognized the name but had long forgotten what it was associated with. When Harry made eye contact Dean Thomas, the only other Muggleborn he was friends with that didn't know everything, he just shrugged, as confused as Harry was. Harry figured it must be a Wizard thing, then, and that Dumbledore would explain it. Out of habit, he looked over at Zabini's table, where his rival was looking like a privileged git yet again, not even surprised. His father had probably bribed someone who knew about this to tell him that it was happening, and had shamelessly passed it onto his annoying son as always. It was unfortunate how much of the time money managed to allow Zabini to pretend he was better than everybody else.

He wasn't.

"Some of you may know what this is," Dumbledore said, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "but for those of you who don't, here's a brief explanation: the Triwizard Tournament is a competition between Hogwarts and the two other Wizarding schools- Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. One champion from each school is chosen to compete, the winner being the one with the most points after competing in three magical tasks. The winner, besides eternal glory and all that, will get a thousand Galleon money prize. This tournament used to be held every five years, and I among many others believe that it was a great way to establish the ties that would have been kept from forming due to the lack of contact between the schools. The competitive element of it never managed to stop bonds from forming. It was stopped because of the death toll,"

Harry was still on edge, and the words "death toll" in relation to something that was going to be done for the rest of the school year made him share a nervous glance with Hermione. With her motherly tendencies, it was rare that he and Ron were ever as worried as she was.

"The top contenders from those two schools will be arriving in October. I expect you all to treat them hospitably and not let the competition get to you. Make some friends, even. Now," at this, Dumbledore's tone became a slight bit more businesslike, "as for the champions." At this many students started to whisper about their plan to become Hogwarts champion. The title was rather attractive, after all, and even Harry found himself standing on an imagined podium, holding a prize and smiling at the adoring crowd. He may of developed a bit of a hero-complex over the years, but he figured that it was justified, considering what he had done and how he was treated by most. Dumbledore cleared his throat and most of the students turned their attention back to him. "They will be chosen after the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have settled in a good amount, on Halloween. They won't be chosen by anyone biased so you needn't worry about that. However, although I know that many of you imagine bringing glory to the school and to yourselves, only those of you who are of age- 17 or older- will be allowed to enter your name into the pool of people to be selected from." At this, for the second time during Dumbledore's speech, outraged cries issued from all four houses.

"This is for safety reasons, considering the tasks will be both potentially dangerous and extremely challenging. We believe that only those of age will be able to handle all that the Tournament will surely throw at you, and ask that all of you who aren't of age accept that graciously. As well as this, I myself will be making sure only those who are permitted enter, so if those who aren't would give up now, and not make it needlessly painful, I would appreciate that. Of course, there are those of you who will try regardless," he looked pointedly at Fred and George, who were huddled together and clearly plotting how to overcome this obstacle. When they noticed the silence, the two boys looked up at Dumbledore and smiled guiltily, pretending to go back to listening intently to him. When he began to speak again, they put their heads back down and started whispering again but Dumbledore continued anyways, "To those of you, I merely say that, as a warning, you will not succeed, no matter what you plan.

"Now, please make yourselves at home, and those of you who are of age should start to think about whether or not you'd like to try to become the Hogwarts champion. For now, I hope you have a good night's rest and are ready for all of your classes tomorrow," some groans issued at the thought of classes, which Dumbledore ignored. "You are all free to go, now," and he sat back down and begin to talk happily to professor McGonagall.

Almost all at once, the students throughout the Hall got up from the tables and the throng of people just about blocked the exit. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the Gryffindor students and prefects for as short as it took them to ask about the password. When they did, one of the prefects gave it to them happily, when the prefects were almost certainly supposed to make sure that students went straight to their dorms, and withholding the password would surely be the easiest way to do so. Harry had a hard time believing that it had nothing to do with who he was, which made him feel more guilty and glum than anything.

As the trio headed back to their dorms at a more leisurely pace, they had the misfortune of meeting Zabini and his cohorts on one of the staircases. Harry wasn't in the mood for confrontation, so of course Zabini took that moment to confront him.

"Potter, I see you're still here. Too bad, that. I was hoping that maybe after you saw the Dark Mark in person you'd run away scared to your mum- oh wait, that's right, you don't have one." He and his posse cackled predictably at the childish insult.

"Yeah," Harry responded, already more irritated than he wanted to be. "I had actually noticed, surprisingly enough. Thanks for the reminder though. I imagine, considering the intelligence of your gang, that you have to remind them of simple facts often."

At this, Ron laughed quietly and Crabbe and Goyle just looked confused, while an angry red tint began to show on Zabini's face.

"I don't imagine it's any different for you," he spit back, and looked back at his posse again, "Whatever. Let's just leave the precious 'Boy-Who-Lived' alone. He must deserve it after all of the nothing that he's done, mustn't he." It came out more like a bitter statement than a question, and Zabini led his mindless minions away.

* * *

 

That night, Harry lied in bed thinking about the Triwizard Tournament. Although Fred and George would surely try to get past the age restriction, he imagined that Dumbledore would be able to stop them easily. He was a Wizard powerful enough to scare Voldemort, after all.

Still, he couldn't help the images of fame and glory- fame and glory that he had actually earned for once- that filled his mind.

On a far more realistic note, Harry was curious about the new students that would be coming for the Tournament. He didn't have much experience with Wizards as a whole, and had basically never met any foreign ones. He was both curious, apprehensive, and excited.

He wondered if their might be any cute girls to get his mind off of Cho Chang. He had decided over the summer that he didn't want to obsess over her anymore. With the new information, he would much rather spend a little bit of time trying to get to know some French girl or something, to learn about how other Wizarding communities worked if nothing else.

He wondered as well if there would be anyone that he could befriend. Maybe someone who could fit seamlessly into his group and be there to have fun with when Hermione and Ron paired up, as he knew was bound to happen. He could see it in their eyes when they looked at the other when they thought no one was looking. They were bound to realize it soon enough.

After the lights turned off and his dorm mates all went to sleep, Harry stayed up thinking for quite a while. Eventually, Ron caught on to him, or maybe just knew him well enough to know what was happening, and whispered at him to go to sleep.

"Really, mate, get some sleep. I know how tired you'll be if you don't, and I'm not sure if you'd be able to face Snape on the first day tired. I'm not sure if anyone can face Snape on the first day in any state of wakefulness, really," he grumbled. "Anyways, you should go to sleep so that I can too without worrying about you, Spare me, if nothing else."

Harry smiled and knew that Ron was doing the same as he tried to slow his constantly racing mind and fall asleep.


End file.
